


Matters of the Heart

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Hogwarts Era, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-24
Updated: 2007-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:38:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: It came riding on the back of uncertainties, and yet, there it was right in front of them. If only they would open their eyes. RHr just like the best of them! Post HBP.





	Matters of the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

_**~*~Matters of the Heart~*~** _

There was security in what was certain, what was predictable, what was proven beyond a doubt. There was something warm and comforting in the cold, hardness of fact. There was no room for misunderstanding or misinterpretation, no way to fall victim to the idiotic follies of human emotion. Facts were predictable. They allowed you to plan, to prepare the course of action that would yield the best results. What was there to be afraid of if you knew what to expect, and were ready for it? Fear on the other hand... fear lay in the uncertainties. It was a close companion with doubt and came hand in hand with unknowns. 

That was why she read into the late hours of the night. It was what motivated her to acquire as much knowledge as she could. Most people assumed that she studied so hard because she was a stickler for good grades, but that was usually incorrect. Of course, the grades and the admiration from her teachers was an added benefit, but usually she just wanted to be prepared for whatever the next day would hold for her. It was an urge that had managed to grow since Voldemort's return. With nothing but uncertainties anywhere she looked, she craved comfort. And she found it in her books. Each page was a gentle caress, each volume a pair of strong arms that wrapped around her, holding her tight.

Every magical person in the world had come to know the fear once again, the fear of having your life destroyed by a heartless madman. The fear of losing the ones you love. The fear of having your life end suddenly in a flash of green light. But even with these fears and the added ones that came from being part of the group that was hunting Voldemort down, one of Hermione's greatest sources of doubt came from inside. There were no facts where matters of the heart were concerned.

She glanced up hesitantly from the ancient pages she had been studying and chanced a glance at the fiery redhead sitting across from her. His eyelids drooped heavily across his blue eyes as he struggled to keep hold of wakefulness. His head was bent over another book, resting in his large hand as he stared blankly at the pages before him.

Hermione allowed a small smile to pass across her face as she watched him. She loved these rare moments. The ones where it was just her and Ron. The ones where she could watch him without anyone else noticing, when she could take in every tiny detail of his appearance. Like the way his mouth hung slightly open when he was bored, or the slight crease by his eyes as he squinted to try to make out a word. She tried to memorize each and every one of those precious freckles, carving them into her memory for further study later. Then her eyes swept further down, past his neck, across his muscled shoulder and down to his arm. She felt her heart twinge as her eyes caught sight of the scars that crept out from his t-shirt and snaked their way down to his hands. The scars he had received in the Department of Mysteries. The scars that proved his loyalty and his bravery in following his friends into danger.

As he shifted slightly, Hermione realized that she'd been staring and quickly transported her gaze from his features to the pages open before her. She decided that there were advantages to her bushy hair, as she hid her blushing face behind it.

Oh yes, Ron most certainly was a source of uncertainty. The past year had most eloquently proven that to her. She had finally struck up the courage to move their relationship past their awkward friendship into something more, something that she had been almost certain that he had wanted too. Her heart had soared when he accepted her invitation to Slughorn's Christmas party. Surely this was progress! She'd felt that there was a mutual understanding, that this was more than the "just friends" status they'd been stuck in for years. Her hopes had been confirmed. He'd proven that this was more than just a one-sided, unrequited love tragedy: he reciprocated her feelings.

Matters of the heart were most certainly anything but certain.

Lavender Brown. The name seared through her mind, filling her with so much pain she thought she would explode because of it. She'd misinterpreted their so-called "mutual understanding". Ron didn't feel whatever it was that made her heart pound whenever he was close to her. He would only ever see her as his brainy best mate. Nothing more. That realization struck her like a herd of hippogriffs, trampling her fragile heart. But of course she couldn't just be left alone with her disappointment and sadness, she was forced to watch him discard her feelings so carelessly, throwing them to the ground and stamping on them until they shattered into a million pieces, so small that they were little more than dust. And sharing a room with Lavender and Parvati didn't help in her attempt to mend her broken heart either. There was no safe haven, no place to go at the end of the day to vent her anger or cry out her sorrows.

She had tried to hate him, tried to suppress how much she wanted to be with him. Her anger made it easy to do so for a time, but then he'd been poisoned and that flimsy wall came hurtling down. She had almost lost him. Hermione berated herself as she hurtled towards the hospital wing, angry that she had pushed him away. He was going to die and she hadn't spoken to him in _months_. He had been her best friend - even though he'd behaved like a complete prat and hurt her more than anyone else could have - he was still her best friend. And she realized that having him in her life in any way, even if it meant ignoring her more than friendly feelings for him, was better than him not being there at all.

At first she had been satisfied. He was back in her life and she had accepted the painful truth that her feelings were one-sided. But there were moments. Moments where she forgot and began to hope. Moments like when he said "I love you," simply because she had agreed to fix his essay. Moments like when Lavender accused him of being in love with Hermione before breaking up with him. Most of them she managed to shake off, but when he held her at Dumbledore's funeral the hope blossomed and she couldn't suppress it anymore.

Now, almost a month later, things were more uncertain than ever. Sometimes she would catch him watching her and his ears would turn bright red as he quickly looked away. Other times when their hands accidentally touched he would stammer an apology while his face did a stunningly accurate imitation of a tomato. Surely that meant he felt something more too, right?

But still nothing had happened and she was beginning to think nothing ever would. A pair of brave Gryffindors, really? She wasn't so sure anymore. She couldn't find an ounce of bravery to just reach across the table and entwine their fingers. She was hiding behind her hair, for Merlin's sake! If they really were such great friends she should at least be able to make eye contact shouldn't she?

Tentatively, she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear so she could see Ron out of the corner of her eye. He was no longer staring blankly at his book about Ravenclaw. Instead he was gazing intently at her, with a slightly perplexed expression on his face. As she watched him discreetly, he took a deep breath and parted his lips slightly as if he were about to say something. Hermione lifted her head to look at him straight on, but instead of proceeding with whatever he had meant to say, Ron clamped his mouth shut and buried his face back into his text.

Confused and slightly disappointed, Hermione tried to focus on the words in front of her but the letters on the page seemed to be a jumbled mess with no coherent meaning. Her thoughts wandered back to the man across from her and she shot him another quick glance from behind her thick curtain of hair.

She felt a faint blush creep into her cheeks when she realized that once again he was watching her with a quizzical expression on his face. He clearly had something to say, something that made him nervous, something he was afraid to say. She knew better than to look up when he took that tell-tale breath again. Not wanting to scare him off she kept her head bent down until he addressed her directly.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron?" she replied, trying to keep her voice casual and off-hand.

"I... err... never mind..." he trailed off, suddenly completely fascinated by a loose thread at the hem of his shirt.

Frustrated, not only by his silence, but by his ability to distract her, Hermione put the quill she'd been using to take notes with down with more force than was completely necessary. "Honestly, Ronald. If there's something you want to say, get on with it! We're friends, aren't we? You can tell or ask me anything. So either say something, or let me get back to work." She spent a long moment staring him down before grasping her quill and going back to work. "It's no more than I expected," she muttered as she angrily flipped the page.

He would never change, never work up the courage to tell her what he was thinking, what he was _feeling_. She could hope all she wanted, guess, predict and pray that he shared just an ounce of the feelings that managed to drive all rational thought from her mind. But as her anger grew, some small part of her conscience reminded her that she hadn't said anything to him either. She was too afraid. Their relationship had always been so confusing; with so many ups and downs that she was never sure where they actually stood. It came riding on the back of uncertainties and that filled her with a fear that she just couldn't face.

"Did you snog him?"

Ron's question startled her back to her present reality and she was so surprised that she couldn't put together a proper sentence. "I - what?" she asked in complete confusion.

"Krum," he spat out with as much disgust as if he had just eaten a particularly disgusting flavour of Every Flavour Jelly Beans. "Did...did you snog him?" he repeated as the familiar Weasley blush invaded his neck, face and ears.

This was most certainly unexpected. Hermione's mind raced to find an answer but it was clouded by a thousand questions. "Why do you want to know?" she inquired before she could stop herself.

"I...just do. Anyways, what does it matter? It's a simple question, just answer it," he replied. Then his face fell and a flicker of sadness crossed his face before it was rapidly replaced with anger. "I reckon you already have. Your silence makes it perfectly clear: you did. I mean how could you resist your precious _Vicky_? He's so smart, and famous and a ‘really good Quidditch player'. Just forget I asked."

He stood up quickly and began taking long strides towards the door of the bedroom he was sharing with Harry while they searched for the remaining Horcruxes.

Hermione struggled to register what he'd been saying, to make sense of the expressions that had changed so quickly from awkward nervousness and embarrassment to a raging and fiery anger. Could he possibly be...jealous? No, that was too much to hope for. But as she watched his retreating form she began to think otherwise.

Jumping quickly to her feet, she raced after him and blocked his path to the door. "Ron? Why do you want to know? Please, you need to tell me. Just come back and sit down and we'll talk."

Appearing to understand that there was no going back, Ron complied reluctantly. They sat down awkwardly on the lumpy sofa that faced the fire. Hermione perched on one end, with her legs curled neatly beneath her as Ron sprawled out on the other.

Neither spoke for a long time as they watched the fire die down before them. Neither could find the words to breach the silence that had fallen between them. Finally Hermione couldn't stand the tension and nervously cleared her throat before turning back to Ron. Mustering all the courage she could find within herself she began, "I honestly don't understand why something that happened -" Ron's face once again held a pained expression at her words so she quickly added, "or didn't happen more than two years ago is so important. I was only fifteen years old, for Merlin's sake."

"But you did, didn't you?" he replied in a dejected tone. "Ginny said - "

"Ginny?" she cut in quickly. "Ginny told you that I snogged Victor? Why? When?" Then she bent her head and quietly muttered something about hexing her.

Ron took a deep, shaky breath before answering, "Just before the first Quidditch match last year. Harry and I caught her with Dean, and I guess I _might_ have overreacted but she said that the only reason I cared so much was because I was the only one who hadn't snogged. She said that Harry kissed Cho and that you..." he looked away from her and down at his hands, "that you had snogged Krum."

If it was even possible, his face turned an even deeper shade of red and Hermione couldn't help but smile at how he blushed whenever he was uncomfortable. It was one of the few predictable things that remained in her life. Even through her frustration with his childish jealousy, she couldn't help but love him all the more for it. Wait, love? Is that what this was? This fluttering sensation in her heart whenever he smiled at her? She supposed it must be. She was just beginning to enjoy this realization when Ron once again cut into her thoughts.

"Look, Hermione, just forget I said anything. Please. It was a stupid question. I - I just want to go to bed now. I'm sorry."

He made to leave, but Hermione placed her hand on his leg and smiled sweetly at him. "Nothing happened between Victor and me. Or at least not anything that really counts. Please, Ron, stay."

"Y-you mean? You never?" Ron stammered as relief spread across his features.

Once again she smiled reassuringly as she answered, "Not really. I mean _technically_ he kissed me once after the Yule Ball. But it wasn't really anything special," she continued quickly before he had a chance to react. "Not much more than a peck really and - and I stopped him. I told him that I wasn't ready for any sort of ‘physical' relationship."

They spent a long moment in silence before Ron worked up the courage to blurt out another question. "Then - then why did you go out with him at all? Why did you care?"

"Because he was the first one to notice me!" she shot back angrily. "You certainly didn't! It took you almost four years to even notice that I was a girl! I was fifteen, and he was an exciting adventure. For once I felt like I could actually have something _more_ with someone. But I - I realized that I didn't really have feelings for him, so I broke it off before we because nothing more than snogging partners. Which is more than you can say about L-Lav-ender!" A small sob escaped her as her entire body began to shake with anger. Anger for Ron and his insensitive actions. Anger with Lavender and the way she'd thrown herself at Ron. Anger aimed at herself and her inability to stop loving Ron. She took a deep, steadying breath before continuing, "And you? What excuse do you have for your little ‘affair' with Lavender? You blocked me out and I couldn't understand what I'd done. What I had done to make you suddenly start ignoring me before that match. Why it couldn't be me you were kissing in the celebration that followed..."

Hermione's face grew a shade of red that rivaled even Ron's deepest blushes. Why had she let that slip? Now she'd messed things up for good. Their friendship would never go back to normal after that comment. Her mind raced to find a way to back track, to erase what she'd said, to somehow fix the mistake she'd made. Her head collapsed into her hands ands he felt Ron shift on the sofa next to her.

"You know, I only went out with Lavender because of what Ginny said. I was so jealous that Krum had got to kiss you before I did. I was afraid that even if I tried to kiss you then, that I'd be so bad at it that even if you did feel the same way as I did, that you'd change your mind. I figured Krum must have been a pretty good snog and there was no way I could ever live up to that. I didn't think I was good enough for you, Hermione, and Lavender...Lavender was just there and...er...willing. I'm so sorry Hermione, so terribly sorry."

Hermione's heart was beating so hard and fast that she was sure he could hear it. It felt as if she was going to explode and she couldn't seem to catch her breath. Did this mean...? Was he implying that he...? She could have sworn that she was flying, floating up from her seat on the sofa. She felt the words pushing themselves into her mouth. Her lips uttering them on their own accord, without any conscious coordination from her brain.

"I love you, Ron."

Two sets of eyes widened in shock at the words. Hermione's boldness surprised them both and silence filled the room as they both tried to recover from this change of events.

Hermione regained control first. Tears stung her eyes at Ron's prolonged silence. Surely, if he felt anything like she did he would have at least smiled. No, this was definitely a bad sign. She needed to leave, to escape before the tears that were blinding her spilled over and she became a blubbering mess.

It was her turn to stand up and make a dash for the nearest exit. As she did so she stuttered, "I - I'm so sorry, Ron. I'll just go... I... that was out of place... inappropriate... so stupid."

She began walking as swiftly towards her bedroom as her little legs would carry her but as her hand reached out to turn the doorknob, Ron's wrapped firmly around her wrist. He turned her around gently to face her and gave her a small chuckle.

Hermione pulled away forcefully as she spat out in a hurt and slightly angry voice, "Don't, Ron! Don't make fun of me! I'm sorry, I misinterpreted. I - I don't know why I said that...please...just leave me alone...please." A tear fell from her delicate eyelash onto her burning cheek and she brushed it away angrily, not wanting to display any more of her vulnerability.

But Ron refused to let her leave and grasped her shoulders, forcing her to face him, gently coaxing, "Hermione, look at me. Please, ‘Mione." When she still refused to meet his gaze, he moved one of his hands to her chin and gently lifted it, looking her full in the face. He gave her a reassuring smile before saying, "You know, from the smartest witch of your year, you really can be pretty daft sometimes."

"I told you not to make fun of - "

Ron cut her off by gently placing his lips on hers. Hermione's eyes widened in shock as she tried to register what was happening. Ron was kissing her and she...wasn't reciprocating. Before she could start responding properly, Ron was pulling away and she found herself stretching to try to keep contact with his lips. But Ron was too tall and was forcing her to look at him again. This time she did with no reluctance as her hand crept up to touch her lips in amazement.

Satisfied that he had her attention, Ron continued, "As I was saying, you really can be quite daft. What you said...Merlin, it wasn't stupid! Those were the most amazing things I've ever heard someone say, ‘Mione. And you should know that..." he took a deep breath and swallowed audibly, then, "I love you too, Hermione. I reckon I have for, Merlin, I don't know how long. You're the most amaz - "

He was interrupted by Hermione's lips crashing against his. He quickly reacted and began skillfully reciprocating. Hermione felt a shiver run through her as his hands rand down her sides and wrapped tightly around her waist. Reacting on impulse, she raised her hands to his chest and then snaked them up and around his neck, entwining his beautiful locks between her fingers. As Ron pulled her closer, he parted his lips slightly to allow his tongue to trace her lower lip and then gently parted hers, softly entering her wet and delicious mouth. A soft moan escaped her at the sensations he was making her feel, but she pulled away slowly, needing to catch her breath. Ron gave her a cheeky grin as he rested his forehead against hers.

"That was..." she trailed off as she failed to find a word to describe it. She didn't particularly want to think about how he'd become so talented, but she couldn't help but feel a hint of gratitude for Lavender for teaching him how to do...that.

Ron reached up to entwine his fingers with hers before leading her back to sit by the fire. His thumb traced out cryptic letters from some foreign language on the back of her hand as he pulled her down to sit next to him. He released her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulder as her head rested gently against his chest.

After a long silence Hermione spoke. "Ron?" she said softly. "What happens now?"

He looked down at her and stroked her hair as he replied, "I don't know."

But for once the uncertainties weren't so frightening. Neither one knew what would be thrown at them next, but for once it didn't seem quite so bad. They would be together, that was enough.

After all, some matters of the heart were most definitely certain.

 

 


End file.
